


Hush Hush Hush

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Gen, Hostage Situations, Uhhhh what else do I tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hostage exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Hush Hush

Boiled and strained down to the dregs, they were a businessman and a soldier. And in business, as in war, it paid to keep things as simple as possible.

Gold is Power, as his father had said. Butler privately thought the real family motto, the one all of the Fowls lived by, was “The End Justifies the Means.”

Keep it simple, Domovoi. Follow orders, follow them to the letter, and hope everything came out in the wash–

(in more ways than one)

– and if it didn’t, he could fall back on the notion that he _had_ only been following orders. Artemis was the brains of the operation. He’d made the calculations, had explained to Butler what would have to be done. Simple math, so easy that even Mulch would have been able to figure it on his hairy fingers. 

In business, as in war, keeping things simple meant bringing things down to numbers. Just numbers, and as long as a profit was made, as long as the victories outweighed the casualties, then whatever had come before, you had won.

Walking Artemis down the hall, one huge hand on the boy’s narrow shoulder, didn’t feel like winning. But Artemis had insisted. Had explained, over and over, with a patience Butler hadn’t known his Principal had possessed, that four–

(Fowl Senior, still called Tim by some, wincing and leaning heavily on his wife’s shoulder, her once-breathtaking gown torn and dirty and soaked in blood and sweat and the grime of days as a hostage, pretty face set, little teeth gritted, a lioness protecting the two youngest Fowls who clung, wide-eyed, to her skirts, pain and privation and terror underlining the fact that they were still only children, barely six years old, Beckett’s round face still caked with blood and smeared where he’d angrily wiped away tears, Myles still and silent, round-eyed, long past crying over a broken wrist)

– was more than one, even a one as precious as he was. 

‘Precious,’ yes, in the way that china dolls were precious, emotionless porcelain features and glassy eyes. Not a smile nor a frown, just the carefully painted curve of a cheek, of a rosy lip, lovely to look at but hard to the touch.

And inside, hollow.

Down the hall, quickly past the two men waiting to see if they’d get to use the weapons they so competently held. Past the other Fowls. Artemis didn’t spare them a glance–

(His father reached out, said things that he never said, “Son,” and “I love you” sounding strange coming from a hard and trembling mouth

His mother wept and wept and clutched her youngests’ faces close to her to assure them that everything was going to be all right, everything would be fine, that their big brother would be back soon

and Beckett looked up at her, wondering, seeing bitter tears and hearing trite words

Myles watched Artemis’ back, silent, doing the math in his head, adding and subtracting and coming to the same answer, a solution that was terrifying in its simplicity)

– and walked on. 

For someone else, the expressionless mask might have hidden a maelstrom of feeling. Artemis was too bright, too clever. He knew that if he remained hollow, nothing would come spilling out when they broke him open.

Butler allowed the men to take Artemis out of his grip. Allowed them to drag him unprotesting out the open front doors, down to the car.

Away.

The pale skin and dark hair were visible settling into the back seat, and then the door shut, severing some invisible leash like a violin string wound too tightly. That sudden pain and fear, followed by a sort of relief. The worst had come and gone. Now there was only a heavy silence, a hush, a calm unbroken by Angeline’s sobs or the crunch of gravel underneath car tires.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I keep trying to murder Artemis Fowl? Is it because I don't understand algebra?


End file.
